


Smooth

by Moit



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, M/M, Rimming, Shaving, Slash, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-11
Updated: 2010-06-11
Packaged: 2018-03-03 22:17:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2889917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moit/pseuds/Moit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco lets Harry shave him. Then he lets Harry rim him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Smooth

**Author's Note:**

> Normally I have an aversion to the words “arsehole” and “hole” but this dirty, dirty fic uses them more times than I can count. Extra special thanks to my beta, kyliemou! *hugs and squishes*

Harry dipped his hand in, testing the temperature of the bath. Hot, but not too hot. Perfect.

“Draco!”

The blonde appeared in the doorway, a dark blue robe pulled tightly against his body.

“I can’t believe I’m letting you do this, Potter.”

Harry grinned as the steam from the bath fogged his glasses.

“Come here, love. I won’t hurt you.”

Draco tensely stepped forward, his eyes drifting to the shave crème and straight razor on the edge of the tub.

“It will grow back,” Harry said softly, in response to Draco’s unspoken concern.

With a great sigh, Draco dropped his robe, revealing yards of bare alabaster skin. He lowered himself into the hot bath and groaned in pleasure as he leaned back.

“Are you ready?” Harry asked, holding the bottle of shave crème in his hand.

In reply, Draco draped one long leg over the lip of the bath.

Harry took his time lathering it from the ankle to just above the knee. The hair on Draco’s legs was very fine and blonde. Harry carefully slid the straight razor up the length of Draco’s leg, clearing the strip of crème and hair. He drew his finger up the newly exposed strip of skin.

“So smooth,” he murmured.

He scraped the razor across Draco’s leg until all the hair and shave crème was gone. Draco switched legs, allowing Harry to repeat the process on the other leg.

“It feels so different,” Draco said, running a hand over his now-smooth calf.

Harry made a slight noise of acknowledgment. He was biting his lip in concentration, eyes intent on his task. When he was finished with the second leg, he looked up at Draco.

“Stand up, love.”

Carefully, Draco levered himself up out of the warm water, shivering slightly in the cool air. His small pink nipples hardened into tight points.

“Spread your legs a bit,” Harry said, coating Draco’s thighs in shave crème.

The feeling of the straight razor on Draco’s sensitive inner thighs and so close to his bits made his bollocks tighten reflexively. When Harry finished, Draco started to lower himself back into the warm water, but a hand on his hip stopped him.

“You’re not done,” Harry said, his tone mocking and playful at the same time.

Flushed, Draco allowed Harry to spread his legs as far as they would go. He lathered Draco’s bollocks, gently rubbing them in his hands. The covering of hair was sparse and pale, but it all fell away with quick swipes of Harry’s razor. He stretched the skin carefully to avoid nicking Draco’s most delicate parts. Harry’s razor swept upward, leaving Draco with only a small trail of hair beneath his navel.

The soft-spoken command to turn around and bend over came as no surprise. Flush with embarrassment, Draco bent over and allowed Harry to remove the hair from his backside and the few hairs around his arsehole as well.

“You can sit down, now,” Harry said softly, sitting back on his heels.

Draco lowered himself back into the water. He gasped. The hot water felt much warmer against his newly shorn skin, especially his bollocks. Harry left him to finish washing, a relatively new experience without the hair on his lower body. When he finished, he wrapped himself in the blue robe and walked into the bedroom.

Harry was already waiting with a bottle of lotion in hand.

Draco shucked his robe and lay down on the bed.

“Are you nervous?” Harry asked, flipping the cap open.

“Now? No way.”

Harry poured a generous amount into his palm and began smoothing it up Draco’s leg.

“Mmm. That’s nice. I should have let you do this ages ago.”

Harry continued the lotion up the other leg.

“Bend your knees, love.”

Draco bent his knees. Harry took one in each hand, spreading Draco open like a delicate flower to his hot hungry gaze. He cradled Draco’s thighs in the crooks of his elbows, pulling him closer. Draco allowed himself to be pulled further down the bed, a soft sigh falling from his parted pink lips.

Harry licked a broad wet stripe over one of Draco’s hairless bollocks. The man trembled, his thighs falling open even farther. Harry licked the other one. He freed one hand from around Draco’s thigh to lift Draco’s arousal-heavy bollocks out of the way. Lowering his head, Harry inhaled the clean, yet still musky scent of Draco’s also-shaven arsehole. Harry gave that a long, wet lick, too.

Involuntarily, Draco clenched his hole. Harry had to reach down and tug on his own bollocks to keep from coming too soon. He blew gently against Draco’s hole, watching with pleasure as it tightened and then released again. He dragged his tongue across the entrance to that tight muscle, but this time he didn’t stop. Harry drew his tongue in slow circles around Draco’s arsehole, teasing, but not entering. Not yet.

Above, Draco squirmed impatiently.

Harry closed his hands around the blonde’s hips. “Do I need to tie you down?”

Draco whimpered as he thrashed his head from side to side, sending his platinum locks, still wet from the bath, flying across his face.

“Then I suggest you hold still.”

Harry licked Draco’s hole again, this time flicking the very tip of his tongue towards the centre. Draco made a deep guttural noise. Harry’s eyes flicked upward, but Draco didn’t move an inch. Harry wound his tongue in circles, gently breaching Draco in very small increments.

“Draco. I want you to reach down and hold yourself open for me.”

Draco’s cheeks filled with colour. Then slowly, oh so slowly, he reached down with trembling hands. His dainty white fingers took hold of his arsecheeks and spread them apart for Harry’s mouth. At the sight of the hairless pink pucker, Harry made a noise low in his throat that sounded to Draco very much like a growl. He dove back in, care and finesse thrown to the wind.

His tongue was like a small animal, fighting to burrow its way inside Draco’s body. He pushed with his tongue and sucked with his lips and forced Draco’s body to open to his mouth.

When Draco’s hole was nearly gaping from Harry’s tongue alone, then, and only then, did Harry slide a finger inside Draco’s loose arsehole. Draco howled. His toes curled and his fingers scrabbled uselessly at the bedclothes, but his hips did not move.

Harry licked around his finger, lubricating it as he thrust inside Draco’s aroused body. Curling his finger inside Draco’s arsehole was all it took for Harry to bring the flaxen-haired man screaming. Harry latched his mouth to the exposed head of Draco’s cock, catching the warm release with his tongue. He scraped his blunt nail repeatedly over that place inside Draco’s body, milking out every bit of his climax. Spent, Draco fell back onto the bed bonelessly.

“You didn’t come yet,” Draco panted, raising his head to look at his lover.

“Yes I did,” Harry answered, a small smile on his face.

Just the sight of Draco’s pale, hairless arsehole wrapped around his tongue had been enough to get Harry off.


End file.
